


The Punk's Punishment

by CursedCursingViking



Category: Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, F/M, Fake Injury, Fluff, Injury, Oral Sex, Punishment, Smut, Spanking, sub!henry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CursedCursingViking/pseuds/CursedCursingViking
Summary: Certified gamer Henry Cavill pulls a hamstring while filming season two of The Witcher the same week the highly anticipated video game Cyberpunk 2077 is released. Coincidence? I think not.Neither does his partner, she sees right through his little punky ploy and decides to take the firm upper hand and put him in his place.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s), Henry Cavill/Reader, Henry Cavill/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	The Punk's Punishment

**Author's Note:**

>   
> a lil meme for ya, via catchymemes on tumblr uwu

It was a little after lunch when she got the call.

“Hey, Love, I’m uh- I’ll be coming home soon.” He sounded distant. 

“Is everything alright Henry?” she asked. He was in the middle of shooting season two of The Witcher, and she knew he was busy. He was rarely home for dinner these days. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he comforted her, but there was still something in his voice, “well, actually, no, I uh-” He found it hard to concentrate after the painkillers he had been given. The physical therapist in the room with him prompted him to continue. “I’ve pulled a hamstring, so I won’t be able to work for a little while.” 

And just like that, she had her Henry home early for Christmas - although he wasn’t too much help, as he needed to rest his leg, doctor’s orders. But she didn’t mind babying him - He was often the daddy who babied her, insisting that she relaxed, making her dinner, and carrying her to bed once she had fallen half asleep on his chest. As much as she loved being pampered, it was lovely to mother and smother her little Henny, who could barely walk himself to the bathroom when he needed it. 

She helped him onto the couch in the morning, before going to the kitchen to make them both breakfast, and after sharing it with him and making sure he had all he would need until lunch, she went to her office to get to work - safely from home, of course. 

However, Henry was bored and she could tell. She went through the living room for a snack in the kitchen, and he stopped zapping through channels on the tv to stare after her, clearly longing for attention. She just smiled and ruffled his hair on her way back to work, leaving him in his t-shirt and sweatpants on the couch. 

After lunch, he finally asked:

“Can you help me down to my game room?” he pleaded. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, “the doctor said you need to rest.” 

“I can rest my leg while playing games, you know?” he argued. 

“If you’re feeling well enough to play video games, you’re well enough to answer emails. Just because you’re not filming doesn’t mean you can skip work entirely.” She liked how this authority sounded in her voice, and how it affected Henry - he grew frustrated between wanting something he couldn’t have, and wanting to obey politely. 

“Please?” he said, and she caved. 

She helped him into his little cave and left him with his cute headphones on, enjoying how happy he looked, now that he was entertained. She just hoped she didn’t spoil him too much. 

But already the next day, she knew she had mollycoddled him when he asked to go to his PC just after breakfast. 

“Henry,” she began, but he was swift in his begging. 

“Please! It’s so boring just sitting around.” And just like that, with his big blue puppy eyes, he had convinced her. 

“Alright, two hours of World of Warcraft, then you’re taking a break and a nap when I get my Elevenses snack,” she insisted, and he followed her instructions - it wasn’t until the next day things went downhill for Cavill. 

Without asking for permission, he snuck down to his gaming room by himself while she worked. He made himself comfortable by his PC and opened the freshly downloaded programme Cyberpunk 2077 - one of the most anticipated games of the year. Hell, of the decade! He patted himself metaphorically on the back for his clever “injury”, which allowed him to get off of work, just in time for the release of the game. He felt his excitement rise as the loading screen came on, but the farther it rose, the deeper his downfall would be. 

The clock neared eleven and she left her office to go grab a snack, finding the living room empty. Where was her Henry? She knew exactly where. She went to the room and stood in the doorway, watching Henry lean forward, completely unbothered by his folded leg, and way too immersed in the world before him to notice her tsk. Only when she cleared her throat, she caught his attention, and he froze. 

God, the high it brought her to see him realise he’s fucked. It was otherworldly. 

He swallowed a lump and turned around slowly. The second they made eye contact, she spoke.

“Go upstairs. Now. I trust you can walk there yourself.” She added the last with a hint of something spicy, letting him know she knew full fucking well what he had been doing. She had hoped he wasn’t tricking his way out of work for the sake of the video game he had been gushing over for months, but she wouldn’t accuse him without evidence. Now, however, it was painfully clear. 

She walked behind him, supervising and escorting him on his way to the living room, where he obediently knelt on the floor. She took a seat on the couch in front of him, staring him down. 

“How did you get down to your game room?” she asked, toasting him already. 

“I walked…” he mumbled.

“Wasn’t that painful, Henry? Hm?” she asked rhetorically, “With your poor pulled hamstring?” she mocked. 

“I uh- my-” He found it hard to find the words. 

“I can’t hear you. Speak up, Henry.” 

“Mylegisfine,” 

“One more time, slowly.” 

“My leg is fine.” His eyes were glued to the floor in shame - he looked cute all red and nervous. 

“Then why would you say it wasn’t, little boy?” she asked again, mockery dripping from every word like sticky syrup. 

Henry confessed in a whisper. “I wanted to get out of work so I could play Cyberpunk.” His voice was tight. 

“Hm. Is that something good boys do, Henry?”

“No, ma’am.” 

“So you’ve been bad, is that what you’re saying?” 

“Yes ma’am, I’ve been bad.” The realisation and anticipation of what was to come from his mistress’ firm hand brought tears to press behind his eyes, and blood to pool in his groin. 

She tsked one last time and ordered him to lay over her knee - having the big bear of a man submit despite his great frame and enormous strength, was a compliment of the highest shelf and she relished in his compliance. She went to pull down his sweatpants and briefs, but on their way down, they caught ever so slightly on his hardening cock, allowing her to tsk again, humiliating her huge Henry yet further. 

Henry disliked pain, but he fed off of the humiliation of submission, so when she landed the first blow of his spanking, he jerked forward with a loud, whimpering groan, even though her hand barely covered half of one buttcheek of what she referred to as his “dump truck of an ass”. 

The next hit fell soon after, followed by a long string of sharp smacks to his pale backside, warming and reddening it nicely, and by the end, both his eyes and his cock were weeping saltily in pain and pleasure. 

“Has my naughty boy learnt his lesson?” she asked him and he nodded. “You took it so well, I think you deserve a reward.” She ushered him back onto his knees on the floor and made herself comfortable, leaning back and undressing her lower body, displaying her slick centre to Henry’s hungry eyes. “Come, have a taste,” she offered him, and with a hand in his black curls, drew him in, forcing him to lap at her folds, sending sweet warmth and vibrations through her. 

Between the endless circles his tongue traced around her bud, and the occasional pokes at her entrance, he brought her to the sweet, tingly release at the end of the route. 

She sighed and thanked him before taking mercy on his straining, veiny cock, and she got on the floor with him, straddling his pelvis and enveloping his length in her core. She quickly picked a fast pace and rocked herself to a second relief with Henry whimpering, panting and pleading his praises and prayers. Her clit rubbed at the base of his cock, by the second set of black curls the hairy man had for her, and her walls squeezed around him in a beautiful rhythm, matching her merciless movements. 

As she neared her peak, Henry did too and begged his mistress. “Please, please let me cum, I’m so close, please let me!” 

If his sweetly desperate words weren’t enough to bring her over the edge, his seed pulsing inside of her, when she permitted him release, made her topple over in pleasure along with him. 

They held still until they could gather themselves again, and then Henry spoke. 

“Are you going to make me confess the lie to the studio?” he asked nervously.

“I think I’d prefer to keep you here at home,” she chuckled and kissed his sweet, plump lips.


End file.
